


two thousand miles

by neville



Series: thorbruce shorts [16]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aquariums, Bruce Banner Feels, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Comics references, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), idk what this fic is i was just aggressively projecting, thor hug me please, working through my emotions through the form of fictional characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28288314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neville/pseuds/neville
Summary: While on the run, Bruce runs into Thor for the first time in years.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Thor
Series: thorbruce shorts [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1419172
Kudos: 38





	two thousand miles

**Author's Note:**

> title from the pretenders song cause who doesn't love a bit of seasonal angst? this fic makes a couple references to the storyline of the immortal hulk comics, but i wasn't being too strict. this is also the first thing i've published in a while because i kept writing stuff and feeling like it was too weird or not good enough, but i decided fuck it, maybe someone else will enjoy my weird ramblings and thorbruce live in my head rent-free 
> 
> sidenote: i am british and have never been to duluth. details may be inaccurate

Bruce dies for the first time, and even though technically he has no time to think as the bullet lodges in his head, he remembers thinking about Thor. 

About how he would never see Thor again, never see him smile, never know if he was okay. 

Bruce dies for the second time, and thinks about Thor. 

He stops counting after that, because there’s no point counting once you realise you’re immortal and use death the way other people dislocate their wrists to break out of handcuffs. A lot of things keep going wrong for Bruce, and nobody seems to want to bail him out this time. He starts to wonder if gamma radiation drives people mad; people seem to yearn for his power, or to research him, to cut him open in a lab. He’s not so sure anybody would find anything. He seems to be on the esoteric side these days. And nobody found anything out the first time, either. All they do is piss Hulk off, and now that Bruce and the Hulk are split again, he’s not reining in that anger – nor does he feel the need to. People aren’t entitled to experiment on his body. 

He has stopped having the time to think about Thor and think about the life he used to be lucky enough to live by the time he sees Thor again. He’s road tripping around America – he started out hitch-hiking, but at some stage he doesn’t remember, his alter stole a car and so now he has that. He had been anxious about it at first, but now he sleeps in it and keeps sweets and snacks in the glovebox. He’s programmed the radio to his favourite national stations, but occasionally finds good statewides. The goal is to search for other gamma signatures; he can  _ feel _ them, feel the pulse of their energy in a way he can’t describe. He has the feeling something is happening, but he can’t put his finger on it. It feels like him dying. 

And of all places, he runs into Thor at the Great Lakes Aquarium in Duluth. He’s not looking great, and he’s still wearing a Hawaiian shirt courtesy of his alter Joe (he shaved the moustache in a McDonald’s bathroom, though, because Bruce has  _ some _ decency left). He’s only here because he’s never been before, and always wanted to go, and figured it wouldn’t hurt to spend a couple hours looking at fish. And now – well, maybe it  _ does _ hurt, but this isn’t the kind of pain he gets angry about. The pain he feels seeing Thor’s sharp jaw is the kind he might actually just be very okay with. Reminds him he’s still human. 

They’re both watching the sharks. Thor is so fascinated by them that it takes him a minute to notice Bruce at all, but when he does, he lights up, immediately enveloping Bruce in a bear hug. Bruce didn’t know that this was what he needed – just touch, the feeling of warmth, humanity,  _ connection _ . He’s gotten used to being isolated again, except this time he’s angrier, digging his heels instead of disappearing into other countries; and he doesn’t know if it’s better or worse, feeling alone in the country you distinctly feel is  _ yours _ . But here’s Thor – Thor, alone in a very different sense, looking up every day at a different set of stars. 

Thor is saying a lot of things and Bruce doesn’t hear any of them, because Thor is brushing some of his hair out of his face and wiping the dirt from Bruce’s cheeks and he’s lost in the touch. 

Thor seems to pick up quickly that Bruce is incapable of finding words right now, or being able to emote properly, so simply takes Bruce along with him for the rest of the aquarium tour. Instead of talking about what happened to either of them, they look at fish of all shapes and sizes and colours and species, and when Bruce manages to speak again, it’s to idly tell Thor a fact about one of the fish. 

“Fascinating,” Thor says. 

Bruce doesn’t actually notice when they start holding hands; he just becomes aware of it, eventually, Thor’s warm palm against his, their fingers interwoven. Thor has callouses. He likes the whale sharks the most, though he struggles a little trying to understand if it’s a whale or a shark. 

And then he spends half an hour in the gift shop, a kid in a candy store, running his fingers through all the birthstones and squeezing all of the soft toys. Bruce buys a jumbo pencil case with pictures of sharks on it, because he figures he can repurpose it as a toiletry bag; and Thor buys a tote bag full of everything, from soft toys to jigsaw puzzles and fridge magnets. Bruce doesn’t quite know what to do with himself when he realises that this is it – that they’ve been everywhere, that it’s over, that they’re standing outside. 

“Where are you going?” Bruce asks. 

“Anywhere,” Thor says. “I’ve been driving around America. I learned to drive. I felt like I had more to learn before I went back to New Asgard. More to learn about this world as well as all the others I’ve seen.” 

“I’m looking for something,” Bruce says. “I won’t ask you to come with me.” 

“What is it?” 

“Gamma. There’s – something – I don’t know,  _ a disturbance in the force _ . When I came back to life for the first time, I felt it, and nothing’s been the same since. There’s something going on.” Bruce puts his free hand in his pocket. “But it’s not pretty. People are looking for me, and the Hulk is different, and I don’t die forever so I do it every night. And I know you’ve seen a lot, but it’s – it’s not pretty, and I wouldn’t ask you to get mixed up in it.” 

“Sounds a little like you’re asking,” Thor says with a breathy chuckle. He takes Bruce’s hand out of his pocket and clasps it in his own. “And I will.”

Bruce doesn’t realise he’s crying until he feels the tear on his cheek. He blinks a few times, trying to force himself to settle. “It’s lonely,” he says. “Being on the run. Being hunted and tortured. Dying. Just when I got used to having friends again.” 

He takes his things from his glovebox and puts them into Thor’s. Thor drives a better car; sturdier, bigger, with more room. He keeps blankets. He has a cup holder with half a soda in. Bruce stares at it for a moment before it occurs to him that he doesn’t care enough not to drink it. Thor doesn’t bat an eyelid except to ask if Bruce wants to stop for food somewhere. 

Bruce leans across the seat and kisses Thor on the mouth, slow, exploring. Thor kisses back a little, but seems to recognise that Bruce needs to set the pace. Twenty-first century glacial, because the ice caps seem to be melting. 

“I’m sorry,” Bruce says. 

“For what?” Thor asks. 

Bruce, much to his own horror, begins to cry again. He never cries – and yet twice, in one day, and in front of somebody else! Thor puts a hand on his back and eases Bruce into the crook of his neck. They kiss a little more sloppily when Bruce goes in again. 

“We should go for food,” Bruce says eventually. “I’d like that.” 

He’s going to die again, he knows; and wake up disoriented and naked somewhere and have to find his car again, or he’ll come to in a motel room with a moustache and a Hawaiian shirt, or he’ll be kidnapped and ragged and sleep in the back of the car for thirteen hours. Things will be messy and difficult and maybe Thor won’t stay. Bruce hopes he will. He hopes beyond hope. 

But right now he feels more than a little bit alright; and maybe more alive than he’s felt in months. 


End file.
